


For the sun to rise

by 3x3



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, they love each other a lot and that's all that matters, they're gay and they're living together, this is remarkably gayer than my last hinae, very very very minor sdr2 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:47:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25375669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3x3/pseuds/3x3
Summary: It's an ordinary night in the Hinata-Naegi household.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Naegi Makoto
Comments: 8
Kudos: 98





	For the sun to rise

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after spending 2 full hours chatting about hinaegi smut prompts w/ a friend, who said "you're a writer. write."  
> So I tried my best, despite never ever writing smut ever before. Then the hinaegi/kamuegi discord server encouraged me to post this on ao3 and here i am.  
> set some time in the vague future

He wakes in the middle of the night to labored breathing coming in stifled puffs beside him.

It takes his sleep-muddled mind two seconds to snap awake and recognize the exact situation taking place.

And then he is _really_ awake.

“Naegi?” he whispers hesitantly. The room is dark. His temporary lack of sight has heightened his other senses. He reaches out a hand slowly and finds Naegi’s nape. It’s burning. Naegi’s breath catches, and the sound makes his heart stutter. The air is musky. His throat feels a little dry.

“Hinata- _kun_.”

Naegi’s voice sounds careful, like he is very deliberately, very intently trying to normalize the setting. However, the slight edge in his tone screams of a completely different story. “I’m sorry if I woke you.” he says softly. “I really should’ve gone to the bathroom for this, huh?”

And that can only mean one thing.

“You’re hard.” Hinata says, and the slight pause that follows makes him curse at the absence of a light source. Experience tells him that his cherished would undoubtedly be sporting a lovely shade of red. In his frustration, he takes hold of Naegi and slips his arms around his waist. Pressing his chest against Naegi’s back, he can feel his heartbeat steadily rising in frequency.

“I was- I mean, you’ve been completely swamped with work and I wanted to let you rest, so I was going to handle it by myself.” his adorable lover replies, somehow sounding bashful.

_Fuck._ He is too much.

Hinata buries his nose into the junction between Naegi’s neck and shoulder, delighting in the way the heated skin shudders when he exhales.

“I’m sorry for neglecting you.” he says with a chortle, and imagines his laughter dancing down his beloved’s spine. The thought makes him giddily feverish.

Almost immediately, his apology is shot down. “You didn’t _neglect me._ ” argues Naegi, and he bites away a grin at how indignantly his enamored is fighting for his honor. Hinata thinks that he is very much so charmed.

"Let me take care of that?" His hand travels south, barely skimming along the surface. He takes his rest gently dipping his fingers into the slope of Naegi's inner thigh. The skin is very soft there, and he would like to leave a teeth mark there if he ever gets the chance. It’s not the time for that now though.

_Tread carefully._ He thinks. _Don't spook._ He's laying out his offer, but it isn't up to him to decide whether Naegi is going to accept.

For a few moments, there is quietness, and Hinata centralize his thoughts on the way Naegi’s entire frame slots against his own. It makes him feel unbelievably content. He’s not used to holding unadulterated affection. He’d never seen it from his parents, that’s for sure: they didn’t as much care for him as they cared for his talents, which was none. His entire worldview used to be built upon the idea that one must possess a talent in order to be of any worth, and it almost drove him to destruction. However, Naegi never seemed to care about talent from the get go. It was vastly different from what he’d come to expect from people, and it was no wonder that he fell. To get to hold him like this in his arms every day, it’s surreal.

_I love you._ He thinks. _I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you._ He hopes that Naegi knows, _wills it_ to be known.

The man looped in his embrace leans back into him just a little. “I wouldn’t ask that of you when you need rest.”

“I’m awake anyway.” Hinata responses, and before Naegi can latch onto the thought that he’d been the one to wake Hinata in the first place, he hastily adds, “I want to, if you would allow me.”

He feels the tickle of Naegi’s hair on his cheek, knows he is nodding before hearing him say, “Please take care of me.”

He smiles when he receives permission, then gives it another second just in case, before surging upward and cupping his hand around Naegi’s crotch. His lover lets loose a huffed breath. The front of his boxers are a little wet.

Feeling heat rise up to his cheeks, Hinata shuts his eyes tightly and nuzzles even closer. Concentration, he’s found out, helps bring out most pleasure out of both of them more often than not. There is fragility in the moment and an irrational part inside of him fears of sudden movement disrupting the atmosphere.

He is warm all over, mind fuzzy and just slightly delirious. He inhales, and tastes the salt of Naegi’s thinly sweat-coated neck. It’s so underwhelmingly overwhelming that he finds the need to raise his head just to clearly enunciate, “I am hopelessly attracted to you.”

Naegi snorts, and it’s a little embarrassing to admit how much Hinata is affected by a mere half of a syllable. “That won’t do.” he teases. “Beacon of hope and all that. Though public image aside, from a personal standpoint I’m going to have to say that hopefully you _are_.”

“That’s a- _terrible_ joke.” he wheezes, fastening his face back in its previous position. He tilts his head, resting his cheek on the slant of Naegi’s shoulder and waits for the tremor of laughter to pass. The joke is so corny that it really has no business being any bit of funny. His sense of humor must be terribly damaged, destroyed by how taken he is with Naegi. He would in all honestly build a monument for this man. He stretches his neck and finds Naegi’s cheek. Very carefully, he presses a kiss there.

He slackens his hand, and lets his fingers drift upward to map Naegi’s left hip bone purposefully. He studies the jutted landscape with enraptured fascination, sliding across smooth planes and halting at the very edge of the ridge before dancing back across, all the while when he allows his other hand to wander upward, roaming across inflamed skin and he thinks about how Naegi is always thinking of himself as plain, how he's never been quiet about wanting to build some muscle, but being the workaholic he is, never catching the time to do so. He thinks about how much he adores this man, how he finds him absolutely extraordinary, how it's not any particular physical feature (though Hinata would be lying if he said he didn't find Naegi's figure enticing, on account of how much he likes running his fingers through that mop of unruly hair, how much he relishes the way he could tuck Naegi's lovely head under his chin and have the both of them line up perfectly, and on occasions such as this one when he is free to explore any inch of him), but Naegi's utter gentleness that drew him in. Hinata would love him anyway- muscles or no.

He hears Naegi's tiny gasp first, before realizing that his fingertips are catching at the slight peak on Naegi's chest. He drags his nails lightly, finding glee upon the way Naegi’s breath hitches at his ministrations. Hinata lazily circles around the tip, and marvels at the notion of having all the time in the world for this.

He thinks Naegi is awfully patient. He must’ve been desperate for release from before, yet he is allowing Hinata to unravel the pace. His muscles are taut for sure, but he doesn’t complain or rush. He is trusting that Hinata will ensure his enjoyment. The underlying tones of that revelation is alarmingly endearing. It gives him a bigger urge than before to perform well, and secretly muses if this has been Naegi’s plan all along, then he must be a hell of a strategist.

It’s cruel to make his lovely better half wait.

Hinata lingers at the waistband for just a moment as he drops his other hand down to lace his hand together with Naegi’s, an intertwined unity, long enough for the center of his attention to voice his consent before delving underneath the fabric and meeting his desired destination, stiff and ready. He gives the head an experimental twist.

A broken whimper slips into the night, accompanied by a delightful shudder, and Hinata captures the sound earnestly, committing it to memory. It’s incredibly alluring.

He quickens his fingers, working swift strokes and tugs from the base to the tip, then circling back down again. He flicks his wrist, chases after the pants and trail of moans piling up into a crescendo. His own erection is gradually growing to be more and more of a pressing matter, and Naegi, who so obviously have discovered the fact, what with it hardening against his lower back, takes it upon himself to _grind down_ on it.

A pleasant buzz flares up in his abdomen and he is weak. A choked sound tears itself out of his mouth, and all of a sudden he can’t seem to catch his breath. This appears to be the exact reaction Naegi is looking for, because he rolls his hips again, and Hinata curls his toes at the stimulation. He craves more contact, more of that friction.

He takes back the hand that was previously maneuvering Naegi’s arousal and quickly tugs down his own underwear, and before his darling could utter sounds of protest or disappointment, fastens his hold back on its original position, as well as tossing a leg over Naegi’s thigh, allowing himself even more proximity of Naegi’s body.

“Is this alright?” he checks, just to be safe, even though he is heaving so heavily.

“Yes.” replies the sole subject of his utmost consideration, equally breathless. “ _Please._ ”

And he shall heed, because what other possibility is out there?

So he goes back to work: rubbing himself against Naegi desperately while trying to keep in sync with the quick, sharp strokes of his hand. Hinata has never been notably good at multitasking, yet even so he is drunk with euphoria, caught in the pursuit for bliss.

Naegi's blunted nails press dents into the back of his hand. He _writhes_ , a stream of nonsensical blubber dribbling from his mouth. These responses are going to drive Hinata _crazy._ The air is sickening sweet. It’s dizzying and exhilarating and fervid and it’s all moving so fast- he’s climbing and climbing and then he is spilling over the sheets, and when he comes back to his senses, he finally realizes that his hand is sticky with fluids as well.

Hinata lets his leg slide off. When Naegi wordlessly hands him a tissue, he thinks his words of gratitude sound somewhat coarse.

He wipes up the mess as thoroughly as he could manage, and braves through Naegi’s silent giggles when he gets to his posterior.

“This sort of makes it look like we did more than we did.”

“Sorry about that.” Hinata apologizes diffidently. “Would you like to take a bath?”

“No.” Naegi hums, flipping over. In the dark, Hinata can not see his face, but it is easy to pick out the fondness in his tone.

A steady pair of familiar arms wiggle around his back, inter-crossing behind his head and looping back to the front, where Naegi attentively brushes the scar on Hinata's head. It's becoming a habit for him, Hinata speculates, so before he could voice his requests, Hinata ducks his head, and bates his breath as Naegi presses a feather-light kiss there.

It doesn't hurt. It hasn't hurt in a long time, but also, nothing Naegi ever does with him hurts maliciously.

And though it doesn't hurt anymore, sometimes Hinata would still consider them as a leverage against himself. _I am allowed to want to spend the rest of my life with him, right? After all the hardships I face, it's acceptable to yearn for happiness?_

He must be trembling a bit, because Naegi hugs him closer, and the fierceness of it all grounds him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you sad."

Naegi must think that he is remembering all the awful memories he has linked with that surgical scar, yet that isn’t true. It doesn’t hurt anymore, and Hinata falters, unsure how he can communicate the idea to Naegi, but pat his back soothingly, and hope that his message is going through.

_It’s fine._ He wants to say. _It’s fine and I’m not hurting. I haven’t hurt for a long time._ He wants to say but he can not speak them so freely just yet. One day he would, and he hopes he would finally forgive himself then.

In its place, he says, “We’re going to have to change the sheets.”

_That_ wins him a laugh, and he tallies the victory as he has every laugh in the past.

“In the morning.” promises his love, and so in the morning it shall be.

Hinata sleeps, and waits for the sun to rise again.

**Author's Note:**

> t-they *tears up*  
> this is an archive and i shall use it as such  
> one day when i am a better smut writer i will look back at this and go "awwww"


End file.
